


Wrong but Beautiful

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst Dean Winchester, Angst Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Obsessive Gabriel, Paradise Lost, Protective Gabriel, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's always there to ease the pain away. Maybe it's not just because he loves to be in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong but Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers unless you haven't seen Season 4. Companion piece to 'In My Mouth', which will be uploaded soon.  
> I always get lovesick, or whatever the term is, when I don't write little Dabriel oneshots or fics every few weeks. I think the last ones I wrote were from Thanksgiving and even though I'm currently writing a long story on the two, which is titled 'Through the Dirt' btw, so please check it out, I'm still very very lovesick and just had to write this. And you really can't blame me. Hope you enjoy my efforts. Oh, and a very happy birthday to Dean, hope you enjoy the gift, or rather archangel, I practically threw at you.  
> Song Featured: Dedicated to Paradise Lost's Nick Holmes and his song 'Grey' because yes, I do dedicate my fics to such breathtakingly beautiful songs and their singers. And OMG, check out their most recent cd because it will blow you away. The title is from the song.

Dean is sobbing. 

His face constantly stings from the multitude of tears that leak from his hazels, tears that burn in their ferocity and continuity, that make him feel alone and pathetic, weak and vulnerable. What’s even more frustrating is that he doesn’t know when he even started crying, why he‘s even crying at all for what point could it possibly make? What reason could he claim to hold within him to give him the right?

It can’t just be that everything is falling apart around him. Damn the world, damn himself, it’s all Sammy Sammy Sammy. Always has been, always will be, because what else is there to live for? Who else would he have ended up surviving for all those years even when his brother was at Stanford and his dad ditched him? 

Sometimes he wonders if Sam even sees him as a living person anymore. Maybe he’s still a corpse rotting in the ground and this could all be some sort of twisted dream that may be missing a couple important reminders of hell, which are flames and heat, but other than that is basically as worse as hell because he is still in such pain and still has no idea how to abate it. 

_If only somebody, someone out there actually would care._

It can’t just be that he is tearing apart at the seams and Sam, the one he’s always looked after, loved, is doing it to him. Is shattering him to pieces every time he sneaks off to go demon hunting with that slut who actually is a demon, while Castiel pops up whenever the hell he feels like it and is oblivious to anything that Dean feels or says for that matter. 

_Heaven is in such disarray Dean._  
Dean, stop being so selfish, stop thinking of yourself.   
There are bigger things at stake here, Dean. Don’t you know that? 

It’s getting to the point where he’s throwing something at the damn angel every time he arrives, one of Sam’s paperbacks, even his laptop once before moving on to the lamp on the bedside table and that really sent him away for good. 

He guesses he got the message across that time. 

 

Dean is crying and Gabriel is suffering for it. 

He can only watch helplessly as the human whom his grace clings to so fully, is experiencing grief and misery and things the archangel cannot even begin to understand. Not that he truly needs to understand them, Dean’s distress equals his distress. 

It takes a little while before Gabriel notices his face is burning too, from tears he previously did not realize he could shed, eyes that must burn just like the human’s and his vessel’s cheeks throbbing with the monotony of the misery. A sadness that cannot be ignored, tears that must be spilled or else the two of them will drown in them, suffocate, bodies welling up with all this pain that they will burst with the insurmountable force of it. 

Gabriel doesn’t know why Dean is crying and neither does Dean, but Gabriel knows who he’s crying for. 

He may not understand why the human affects him so, why everything that Dean Winchester does either makes him grin or laugh or cry, why he craves to claim every inch of his body, to treat it as something overly fragile, so easily breakable because then he will savor every piece slowly, make it known throughout every vibrant word and aching motion that the human is his whole world, has been since that day he gazed through that window and looked upon the face of his future. 

A future which is so far off in the distance that he doesn’t think he’ll ever reach it. 

Dean is distant from his brother, which gives him the ultimate advantage of having one last Winchester to worry about. This way he can sneak up on Dean, surprise him, wipe away his tears and live happily ever after with him. Yeah right, like that’s ever gonna happen. Archangels and humans don’t mix, Gabriel isn’t stupid. He’s also a fighter though, and that means when he wants something, really really wants something, then he’s going to take it. 

Take it with a burning vengeance, in this case, a passionate, unquenchable love that simply cannot be outdone. Dean will deny him, he is sure of it, but his love for him will steady his patience and ultimately… cause the human to fall head over heels in love with him. 

It’s worth a shot, anyway. 

 

Fear glazed hazels flip open at the sound of thunder, the sharp white crack of lightning and its harsh sliver appearing on the wall opposite his bed, tearing him away from hell but seeming to demand something from him. 

An entity that seemingly wants to devour him. 

Dean sinks further down into the bed, throws the sheets off in case his body needs to bolt out of bed to go for another round of vomiting in the bathroom, seeing how far it can get before he chokes on his own bile and collapses face down on the tile flooring, Sam coming back later to find his brother tragically dead… again, or just about there. 

Who knows, maybe Sammy’s reached that state of not having a heart attack at the sight of it… him. 

He nearly gags at the thought, swallowing thickly and fighting back the urge to get out of bed, to draw the blinds across the windows and huddle in the bathroom. Since when is he afraid of thunderstorms? It’s not that he’s even fearful of them, just that they remind him of the worst bits of hell, the fragments that still linger in his half-eaten mind and long to be lived once more, when that’s exactly what he doesn’t need at this point.

Dean’s holding on by the thinnest thread, one that is fraying more by the second and he’s afraid another bolt of lightning and…

And there it is. His body jumps a little, not surges up like a massive wave as he assumed it would. His breath catches in his throat, leaving him unable to swallow. His eyes are as wide as dinner plates, chest heaving with the need for oxygen which just isn’t coming. 

Shit. He’s having a panic attack isn’t he?

He manages to get a small breath in. Another sharp flash of light shines horridly like the sun itself through his window, seeming to pick him out from the rest of the world, uncover his hiding place and already making plans to take him back to the pit. 

It’s not like it couldn’t happen. 

He blinks, suddenly there’s a dark figure above him and with the lightning flashing outside he can just about make it out. 

_Loki?_

Dean wonders if anyone else in the world would be embarrassed to say they’ve been groped by a trickster. 

 

Gabriel’s arms are around Dean before he can even think about how wrong this is, yet how beautiful Dean feels within his grasp, the softness of his skin as his fingers brush upon it almost as if they had a will of their own. Dean’s eyes watering with tears and Gabriel feels like if they were to fall on him he would forever be cleansed, of all his past mistakes and that it would mean officially moving closer to Dean, the sign to take him as his own, to love him and cherish him and provide him with everything he could ever need. 

Dean is shaking and the archangel wants to tell him not to be afraid. The thing is though, that he understands that fear, as if it were an entity of its own, the remaining humanity that still lies within Dean even after all that time in hell. 

All those months he was not able to watch over him. 

He’s so beautiful like this, so flushed and sweating and shaking and frightened and suddenly Gabriel wants every part of him that he can reach. Yet at the mere thought of touching him, of just laying one gentle finger on his body, he briefly contemplates if he would just happen to break, with Gabriel here, right in front of him, wanting to be everything but instead being too much for the human to cope with. 

“It’s alright. It’s only me," he murmurs, only half-expecting Dean to hear it, let alone cradle the words in his soul and allow the tone in which they’re spoken, the actuality of the words to ground him. 

The archangel thinks his hope, his happiness may have just reached its peak. 

“You say that as if it’s normal for you to be here.”

Gabriel smiles, wishing it could be wider but all he can think of at this moment in time is Dean’s fear, the tangibility that rested in his vivacious green eyes when he first arrived, seeming to cry out to Gabriel for some form of solace that Dean Winchester would never ask for. 

And then Gabriel realizes that he’s not here just for Dean, he’s here for himself, because he needs the comfort as much as he does, he needs to be loved by Dean and Dean alone. He may not be human but that doesn’t mean much, he’s had so much in life, no limits, nothing that’s been denied him except this. 

All he’s ever wanted has been this human that’s now in his arms, being given the ability to soothe him, especially now because Dean is still shaken up considerably and doesn’t possess the good sense to pull away yet. 

Gabriel can’t help but be in awe at this. Dean could actually want him here. Then again, it could be because Dean thinks it’s a lost cause to pull away considering he’s a breaking human and Gabriel a powerful archangel. A powerful archangel that hasn’t been basking in his full glory for a long time, not since he left. 

He wonders if this could he home now, using all the remaining grace he has to build something that’s not fake, not a figment of his imagination but real. The same bed to sleep in with Dean, the reality of always being within an arm’s reach to soothe his nightmares, to gently kiss him and pleasure him and make him feel like he is everything and the entire world is nothing. Something that when burned down to the ground will never cease Gabriel’s love for the human he has grown so attached to. 

So he’s not just here for Dean, he’s here for himself. And he’s getting what he needs. 

 

Gabriel lets go of him before Dean shoves him away, something likely to happen within the next minute, a thing he just so happens to love about the human. The archangel’s always considered denial to be one of the greatest gifts he could receive, all it means is that he disregards it completely, pushes the situation past its limits because nobody, nothing denies Gabriel and gets away with it. 

Especially Dean, because seeing him like this is literally making him shake as fiercely as Dean still is, just in anticipation and the grand opportunity being thrown at his feet. The fact that the human isn’t pulling away, is close enough for Gabriel to kiss, manhandle even though the thought of it makes the archangel loathe himself. 

Gabriel knows he’s lucky just to be face to face with this irresistible torment, this insatiable lust, being so close to Dean and becoming a witness of everything that he is. The mighty human struck down by the fires of hell yet still so alive, breathing, beautiful even with the oppressive lightning flashing outside and illuminating his pale features. 

He’s so achingly close after being shaded from him while in the deep dark corners of hell, and even when he could see him, his form was still watching Dean from such a high height that he felt such a tremendous loss, useless to comfort or do anything but watch the human’s very real and very agonizing pain. 

The archangel used to be ashamed to admit to himself that letting his thoughts linger on Dean causes him distress, makes him obsessively worry constantly, very annoyingly might he add, until he was inflicted with the torment so much that he just had to catch a brief glimpse of Dean, just to make sure he was okay, even though it was pretty pointless because it was too risky for him to go down there even if he wasn’t okay. 

Gabriel’s finished living that way though, he refuses to stand by and be content, like he never was, of just watching Dean. He doesn’t want to be a guardian angel or some stupid bystander who has a crush on someone that doesn’t even know. 

He’s here. For Dean. For himself. And he’s going to stay put as far as he’s concerned. 

“You’re just too impossible to resist, Deano.”

Yummier than cherry lollipops and women’s bodies adorned with the finest whip cream imaginable…

Dean stops shaking and it’s nothing like a slow meltdown from it, it’s sudden and startles Gabriel more than he’d like to admit because it means he’s having an effect on him. 

“I hope I can take that as a compliment and not a vow to kill me.”

The archangel kisses Dean’s forehead quickly enough so the human doesn’t have time to react. Their arms are touching and Dean won’t say a word, won’t even move away half an inch which speaks far more loudly to the archangel than words could ever hope of doing. He wonders if Dean’s longed for his touch, dreamt of it when it was due time to get his thoughts off of hell at every possible moment, of Sam and the whole Ruby situation that enrages Gabriel more than he can express. 

“What was that for?”

“That was for not pulling away.”

Gabriel slips off the bed and draws the blinds across the windows, had noticed several times of how Dean’s eyes glanced over at them in such a fearful way that if Gabriel focused on it for too long it would break his heart into a million jagged pieces. 

Dean is still on the bed when he turns back around, gazing up at him in a curious manner. Gabriel adores leaving him hanging like this, causing him to wonder what words, or rather actions he’s going to take next. 

Let’s just say he has a multitude of things up his sleeve. 

Now’s certainly not the time for most of them though, Dean’s still coming down from one of his frequently occurring nightmares and while he may not be shaking anymore, his eyes are still wide with a lingering speck of fear in their depths. 

Gabriel crawls back on the bed, scoots closer to Dean than before, which basically leaves their chests touching and their foreheads practically bumping together. 

He breathes in Dean’s scent, whiskey and cinnamon, the former weak due to the mingling with the sweat currently cooling on his frail form and the latter strong yet delicate. A scent the archangel would love to breathe in for hours because it hangs so thickly and beautifully onto Dean. 

“I remember the last time. The last time, Sam told me you wanted to kill me.” 

Dean seems a little distant. Gabriel touches his shoulder to offer reassurance. He wonders if he should tell him the truth, that he’s not really a trickster, that’s he’s dropped out of the race and is currently in hiding from his brothers. 

Would Dean view him any differently if he found out he was an archangel?

Gabriel merely shrugs, as he fights back the overwhelming urge to wrap an arm around the human’s back and pull him to his vessel so closely that Dean is forced to kiss him back as Gabriel makes his way inside Dean’s no doubt delicious mouth. 

“That was just a little game. Got bored.”

Gabriel’s knows that’s not even close to a decent excuse. 

He would understand if Dean didn’t believe him, didn’t trust him, even hated him for it. And as much as Gabriel might dislike the part of himself that longed to do that, that gave into the temptation without even trying to break away, he must accept that as a part of him and vow that it will never happen again. There would be no need for it to happen anyway, with Dean he will have everything he could possibly want. 

Gabriel would be whole, as he had never been. 

Dean doesn’t respond to that, instead switches to something else entirely, “I was going to pull away.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel grins, “And why’d it take you so long?”

“Cause…”

Gabriel pushes him playfully back down on the bed and throws kisses over his face, his neck, his chest, every part of him that he can reach before he can answer. It’s not that Gabriel doesn’t wish to hear the answer with his ‘annoyingly patient for copious amounts of time’ ears, still stinging from blocking out Dean’s endless sobs and whimpers and pleas for forgiveness and release. It’s just that Dean’s body is screaming at him right now to be taken over. 

How could he, in his right mind, not oblige?

And in Dean’s smile as he pulls Gabriel further down to meet his lips for the real kiss, the one Gabriel has been waiting for… for entirely too long, the archangel thinks he can see the world. And the world just so happens to be very very bright. 

_Happy birthday, Dean._

**FIN**


End file.
